“I’ll have you arrested,” he threatened.
“You already said that. Keep up, Parker.” I wondered if I should just tell him the truth. Of course, after finding out a Colombian drug baron wanted to eat me, I figured I should reevaluate how many people we let into our little circle.
“Okay, I’m going to give you a choice. Tell me where Guerin is or I’ll tell Joplin the whole story.” It was a cheap shot, but I was willing to risk a dent in my rep.
Parker, however, came unglued. The man had issues.
He got in my face and jabbed an index finger at me. “How dare you come into my house and threaten me, you little bitch. You think I don’t know about you? You think I’m not going to nail you and your uncle to the wall?”
“My uncle?”
“Way too much shade in your neck of the woods, Davidson. Shady dealings don’t get much more shadowy.”
He was really good at metaphors.
“You guys are always finding shit, just out of the blue. Anonymous tips, my ass. You are the most unethical, unprofessional PI I’ve ever met.”
“I am. I really am. I know about your file, too, since we’re on the subject of unethical practices.”
He was livid. “I’m going to nail your ass if it’s the last thing I do. You had something so, so—” His voice cracked, and I stepped back to look at him. “My wife and I have been trying for five years, and you just throw it away?”
“Parker,” I said, empathy washing over me. Still, he did call me a bitch.
“I know Detective Davidson was in on it. I know he was with you when the baby was born.”
“He was actually kind of above me.” I remembered his face as he stared down the well at me. And the worried look on it.
“Then you admit it. You admit you had a baby and, what? Accidentally killed it? Sold it? Gave it away? What?”
Was he honestly so noble that he would nail me, in the nonsexual sense, even after what I’d done for Lyle Fiske? That he would give up a friendship or the hope for a lucrative—in a prosecutorial way—relationship because he thought I’d broken the law? Was he really the kind of guy who would arrest his best friend for drug trafficking instead of trying to help him cover it up?
“You don’t know me, so let me explain,” he said. “I’m the kind of guy who would arrest my best friend for drug trafficking instead of trying to help him cover it up.”
Wow. That was spot-on. I liked him.
“If you think because we solved a case together—”
“We?”
“—that I’m going to step back from this investigation, you’re wrong. I will find out what you did with that baby if it’s the last thing I do.”
Uh-oh. Wrong thing to say. “Now you’re just pissing me off,” I said.
“Good. I hope you and your corrupt uncle—”
“Corrupt?”
“—get everything that’s coming to you.”
“Corrupt?”
“Now that I have your confession that you did have a baby and you can’t produce any birth certificate or adoption papers…” His smile defined smug.
“Is that really it?” I asked him, almost feeling sorry for him. “Is that what all this is about?”
“Not at all. I’ve been onto you for almost two years. There’s just too much—”
“Shade. Yeah, I got that.”
“So, how about it? Want to just confess all your sins here and now? I have a legal pad somewhere.”
Parker was a hard one to figure out. He was more complex than most people. I could use someone like him on our side. But even if I told him the truth, even if I gave him a show of supernatural wonder to prove it, he was the kind that wouldn’t care. But he’d been willing to break the law for his friend. He was a tough nut to crack.
“One more chance, Parker. Grant Guerin.”
“Kiss my ass.”
I slowed time and contemplated what I was about to do. Not for long, however. I’d pretty much made up my mind the minute he told me he was going to find Beep no matter what. Sealed his fate with that one.
I rose onto my toes and brushed my mouth across his for the briefest second. Then I let time bounce back as the truth poured into his mind like a bad LSD trip. Pictures and memories. Everything that had ever happened to me. Everything I knew, good and bad. Supernatural and mortal. He got it all in one, massive info dump.
He saw the stars being formed. Planets align from space. Supernovas explode. Red giants die. He saw the fall of Lucifer and the rise of Noah’s ark. He saw war and famine and peace and abundance. He saw the otherworld in all its glory. The gods and demons and everything in between. And he saw Beep. How she was born. How she was almost killed. How we had to give her up to save her life. What that did to me. And what I would do to him if he even thought about pursuing his investigation.
“Oh, my god,” he said as he fell to his knees, drool slipping from one corner of his mouth.
It was a lot to take in.
He clasped his hands and bowed before me. I’d never been worshipped before. Not since I’d become human. I did not like it.
“I would never try to find her. I’m so sorry. I’ll get rid of everything.” He started crying, sobbing into the carpet beneath him.
I bent down to him and lifted his chin. “Grant Guerin.”
He could hardly speak, he was shaking so hard. “He’s behind McCoy’s on Girard.” I turned to leave, but he stopped me. “Davidson, I—I had no idea.”
“Nobody does.”
He closed his eyes and buried his face. “I had no idea.”
I went back to him and kneeled beside him. “You’ll be able to father a child now. Side effect of my touch, I suspect.”
When he looked up at me again, he had such gratitude in his expression that my heart reacted no matter how hard I tried to turn it to stone.
“You’re welcome.”
I stepped outside, closed the door behind me, and turned toward the presence of a supernatural being close by. The crickets stopped chirping, and the breeze stopped whispering through the trees. I straightened my spine and clamped my jaw shut, unable to believe Michael was paying me a visit. Another one. And at this hour.
He walked out of the shadows, his presence so powerful it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. His massive wings folded into place as I readied my hand. Faced my palm toward the ground. Prepared to summon Artemis should I need her.
When he spoke, his voice was deep and smooth and clear. “You cannot stop what has been set in motion,” he said. Even in the dark, his eyes sparkled like a swimming pool reflecting the summer sun. Their reaction to even the barest fragments of light mimicked Reyes’s. His could shimmer in the lowest illumination.
“Stop the death of my uncle?”
He wore a long black coat that swept the ground as he took another step forward. “It’s one thing to help Father’s people, but you will be changing their history. Father made a promise. You’ve already upset heaven, Val-Eeth. If you try to stop this—”
I helped people every day. It was how I made my living. And now heaven had a problem with it?
I laughed softly, astounded at his gall. “‘Try’ implies the possibility of failure.” I gave him a once-over before adding, “I have no intention of failing.”
When I turned to leave, he was by my side at once. He wrapped a hand around my arm. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make his intentions known. “They’ll come for you.”
He wasn’t malevolent. I felt no disdain coming off him. No anger or contempt or resentment. In fact, if I felt anything, if I had to pinpoint an emotion swirling beneath the massive wings, I’d have sworn it was something akin to admiration.
I raised my chin. “Let them.”
“You don’t understand.” He lowered his head, his face stunningly beautiful, as I supposed most angels’ were. “He will come for you, Val-Eeth. This is His realm.”
His realm. He brought me to His realm. Practically blackmailed me
into coming here to be the reaper of this dimension. To save Reyes from an eternity of hell, I’d agreed. And now He dared to tell me what to do in it?
I leaned forward until we were barely centimeters apart, fought the wave of euphoria being so close to an angel of Jehovah’s induced, and shook my head at the reminder of whose realm I was in. His realm?
“Not anymore,” I said. Then I jerked my arm out of his grasp and went to see a man about his impending death.
Also by Darynda Jones
The Dirt on Ninth Grave
Eighth Grave After Dark
Seventh Grave and No Body
Sixth Grave on the Edge
Death and the Girl He Loves
Fifth Grave Past the Light
Death, Doom, and Detention
Fourth Grave Beneath My Feet
Death and the Girl Next Door
Third Grave Dead Ahead
Second Grave on the Left
First Grave on the Right
About the Author
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author DARYNDA JONES won a Golden Heart and a RITA for her manuscript First Grave on the Right. A born storyteller, she grew up spinning tales of dashing damsels and heroes in distress for any unfortunate soul who happened by, annoying man and beast alike. Darynda lives in the Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico, with her husband and two beautiful sons, the Mighty, Mighty Jones Boys. You can sign up for email updates here.
Thank you for buying this
St. Martin’s Press ebook.
To receive special offers, bonus content,
and info on new releases and other great reads,
sign up for our newsletters.
Or visit us online at
us.macmillan.com/newslettersignup
For email updates on the author, click here.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Also by Darynda Jones
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE CURSE OF TENTH GRAVE. Copyright © 2016 by Darynda Jones. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover illustration by Herman Estevez; photograph of champagne glasses ©Tischenko Irina / Shutterstock
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-07819-3 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-9051-0 (e-book)
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
First Edition: June 2016
The Curse of Tenth Grave Page 32
